


Get Well Soon

by Toomanyfandoms99



Series: Lebanon Codas: A Trilogy [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Coda, Episode: s14e13 Lebanon, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Post-Episode: s14e13 Lebanon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 13:00:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17867738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toomanyfandoms99/pseuds/Toomanyfandoms99
Summary: Dean knew Sam could crush the pearl and be done with it all, but he needed to do something.  He needed to try this.  He needed to know.Was their love really profound?  Could it survive a complete timeline change?  Could it move mountains?  Could it defy logic?  Reality?  Could it destroy the very fabric of time and space?





	Get Well Soon

**Author's Note:**

> The title was taken from the Ariana Grande song of the same name. This is the first in a trilogy of Lebanon codas for the hiatus. Enjoy!

“Dean.”

Dean heard a voice cut through the cloudiness of his mind.

“Dean.”

Dean realized absentmindedly that a wetness had left streaks down his cheeks. He touched it with his finger pads, prodding at his face like he would a dead frog.

“He’s secured. Dean.”

Dean decided to show his brother a sign of life. He sniffled, blinking away the tears in his eyes.

“He’ll be...there when you’re ready.” Unsure at what to do, Dean listened as Sam’s footsteps retreated.

He should have picked a better place to break down. But he couldn’t remember anything in the spaces between the restaurant fight and being back at the bunker.

His parents were around here somewhere. Dean had nearly forgotten.

A feral attack angel that was no longer his boyfriend tended to fill the mind.

All Dean wanted to do was speak to John. Tell him he was an awful father, and no amount of atonement could make Dean forgive him for nearly thirty years of mistakes.

But the way Mary looked at his father made Dean forget all that. Dean had told Mary all that John had done. That didn’t seem to matter.

Love was stupidly and illogically blind.

Dean thought Mary would slap John in the face, not kiss him.

Oh fucking well. Life was a disappointment.

And this timeline, in particular.

Dean sniffled again, realizing his knees were aching as they squeezed his chest cavity, where his heartbeat had finally slowed. It screamed loudly from the moment Dean saw Cas about to murder a group of teenagers to the moment Cas was trapped in a ring of fire in the bunker basement.

Dean practically flew out of the interrogation room as his knees buckled and he gasped out tears.

Which left him crying like a baby to the right of the door, Sam nearly crushing him with the weight of steel. 

Now Sam had trudged off to who knows where, probably looking for their parents.

How did a trip for booze and food become so damn complicated?

Goddammit. Dean felt like an idiot for crying in the hallway. God forbid one or both of his parents see him crying over his boyfriend.

Dean never even had the chance to tell Mary or Sam yet.

He sniffled again, wiping dry tears away with furious swipes. He blew out a long breath and leaned his back against the wall. He used it as leverage to stand up, his knees getting the message to cooperate. His legs ached as he stood, like a baby horse out of its mother’s womb. 

Ready or not, here we go.

Dean knew Sam could crush the pearl and be done with it all, but he needed to do something. He needed to try this. He needed to know.

Was their love really profound? Could it survive a complete timeline change? Could it move mountains? Could it defy logic? Reality? Could it destroy the very fabric of time and space? 

Dean shut the steel door behind him, Castiel — not Cas, not his Cas — narrowing his eyes. Slits of beautiful blue irises stared Dean down, his head tilted down to shadow his face, make him look more intimidating.

Dean understood the difference between warrior Cas and this Cas — Castiel, he was Castiel.

This Castiel had been conditioned over several years to obey his superiors. He did not know Dean, and he was a stone cold killer. He would have killed teenagers without batting an eye, all because Zachariah told him to.

And yet, Dean had faith.

‘You get beaten down by monsters, angels, everything,’ Cas murmured into his skin one night, ‘and still,’ his lips curved upwards as he kissed Dean’s shoulder, ‘you have faith.’

‘Only in you,’ Dean had countered, pulling Cas to his chest as sex haze got the better of him, his mind drifting into unconsciousness and Cas pressed light kisses to his jaw and lips.

Castiel did not know what Dean knew. This turned the tables in his favor.

Dean let Castiel bore eyes into his skull as he dragged a metal chair near the ring of fire, blazing with a soft silent glow.

Dean chose not to think about how the blood orange glow made Castiel look particularly ravishing.

Dean sat in the chair and schooled his expression. He went for his signature Blue Steel pose. “My name is Dean Winchester.”

That spurred Castiel to speak again. “And why should I care?”

Dean stared at his fingernails primly, crossing his legs and leaning back in the chair. He said casually, “because I am the Righteous Man.”

Dean observed under half-lidded eyelashes as Castiel reacted exactly the way he wanted him to. Wide eyes, raised eyebrows, mouth frozen in a disbelieving line.

“Is that so?” Castiel huffed haughtily. “The Righteous Man is meant to bring peace.” Castiel glanced down at the handcuffs on his chair, rattling one hand to make his point. “Are you telling me that this is your calling?”

“Yes,” Dean said airily, “it is what my brother and I do. But the Righteous Man,” he examined his cuticles, “is the name you gave me when you rescued me from Hell.”

Castiel made a sound between a huff and a snort. “I would never rescue a man such as yourself.”

Dean didn’t react at the insult. He regarded Castiel boredly. “Tell me: do you ever have doubts in your heavenly cause?”

Castiel’s eyes went far away, in an entirely different realm. They glazed over as he stared at the space behind Dean’s left shoulder.

It was as if he were searching, grasping for something that wasn’t there, something he couldn’t remember.

Something that the angels had tried to erase.

Dean had hoped that the word ‘doubt’ would trigger something in Castiel’s mind. He was correct in that assumption.

“Doubt,” Castiel said mechanically. He blinked once, his face locking up until not even anger or confusion remained. 

Just blankness.

Dean uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. “This is what they do. Doubt is an error to them. So is suspicion.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Suspicion about your superiors’ motives. In my timeline,” he said carefully, “they tried to shut you up one too many times. And you know what you did? Hm?” Castiel blinked again, a hint of fear in his unemotional gaze. “You rebelled against them. You fought, and you suffered, but you won. You won your freedom.”

“I don’t believe you,” Castiel said, but Dean sensed the hopefulness bubbling from underneath the surface of electric eyes.

“You don’t have to,” Dean said, raising his voice to its normal level, “but it’s the truth that I know. The timeline I lived in.”

Castiel was hooked, the bait taken, the rainbow-scaled carp flopping out of the lake and into the air, the pole reeling him in, towards Dean, towards the information only Dean could give him.

“What else,” Castiel asked hesitantly, “happens in this world of yours?”

Dean leaned back again, getting comfortable in his chair, crossing his arms and opening his mouth. “You become my best friend. My...the only person I trust besides my brother.”

Castiel’s head tilted to the side in that adorable way of his. “My what?”

“Best friend.”

“And? My what?”

Dean’s hands clammed up, his cheeks burning, sweat brimming.

Shit.

Dean could not lie. “My everything. My reason for being alive.”

For claiming not to know much about humanity, Castiel sure had a sixth sense regarding Dean Winchester, no matter what the circumstances. “And?”

Dean let the words tumble out of his lips before he could overthink them. “My boyfriend.”

Castiel furrowed his eyebrows. “I am unfamiliar with that term.”

“My lover,” Dean said softly, feeling his face grow hot again.

Castiel ducked his head in a show of remorse, his skin attracting a tint of pink near his cheekbones. His eyes focused on his hands, fiddling with the handcuffs constraining them to his lap. “I,” he said softly, “I shouldn’t have hurt you.”

Dean absentmindedly touched the bruise marring his left cheek. It felt cold and tender, but wouldn’t hurt yet. Not for a while.

He murmured, “I’ve been hurt many times, Cas. I’m used to it.”

Castiel frowned. “That’s no excuse.”

Dean nodded slowly. “It’s okay. Really.” He added lightly, “it is my cross to bear.”

Castiel batted his eyelashes. “Righteous Man, indeed.” He hummed in consideration, glancing down at his handcuffs. A realization seemed to hit him, then, and he regarded Dean with curious eyes. “Why are you telling me all of this if you know the timeline can be fixed?”

Dean’s eyes widened. “I didn’t tell you that.”

Castiel smiled impishly. He moved his wrist so that his finger could point to his head.

Dean sank back into the chair, his tense shoulders rolling back. “Mind reading. Right.” He said flippantly, “you don’t do that with me in my timeline. You respect my boundaries.”

Castiel actually looked sheepish. It was funny how Castiel went from intimidating to bashful in a mere few minutes. “My apologies. However,” he said, “I would still like an answer.”

Dean’s mouth upturned on one side. He adored this angel more than anything in the entire goddamn world. “I wanted to know if I could get through to you before Sam crushes the pearl.”

Castiel hummed, as if it was a perfectly normal thing to wonder. “I believe you. Does that help?”

“What made you believe me?”

“I don’t see any reason why you would lie,” Castiel replied.

Dean accepted the answer. He couldn’t expect him to immediately fall in love with him again. This was enough.

Dean stood up from his chair. “I’ll see you on the other side, Cas.”

Castiel blinked at the nickname. He looked up at Dean, but said nothing.

Dean left the interrogation room to find Sam and his parents.

————

Dean found the first excuse he could to find Cas.

When Cas entered the bunker an hour earlier, he sat down with Dean, Sam, and Mary. They told him the whole story. Afterwards, Cas retreated to his bedroom.

Or so Dean thought.

He rounded the corner, nearly stopping in his tracks. Cas was there, stripped of his trench coat and tie, sitting with his back to Dean’s door. Steepled fingers, bowed head, crossed legs. Dean walked forward slowly, giving Cas just enough time to see him.

“I apologize for hurting you,” Cas said as Dean approached him.

Dean sat beside Cas warily, turning his head to face Cas. “It wasn’t you.”

“But it was. Another version of me,” Cas’s face twisted as he stared at his hands, “how could I do that, in any timeline, in any world? How could I ever hurt you again?”

Dean frowned, standing up abruptly. He held out a hand. Cas took it confusedly, using it as leverage to stand. Dean cornered Cas against his door, taking his hands, heart beating fast at the warmth of Cas’s hands. 

“It’s okay,” Dean murmured, “it’s okay.”

Cas tugged Dean forward, capturing him in a hug. “I’m still sorry,” he muffled into Dean’s shoulder.

Dean pulled back so they faced one another again. He slipped one hand out of Cas’s to palm his jawline. Cas’s eyelashes feathered his cheeks as he looked at Dean shyly.

Dean said, “I missed you, Cas. A lot. Jack, too.”

“Grown fond of him, have you?”

Dean hummed. “I would choose you and Jack over my father any day. I hope you know that.”

“I do now,” Cas said softly.

Unable to be patient any longer, Dean leaned forward, catching Cas’s lips. He closed his eyes as Cas did, both of them melting into the kiss effortlessly. Dean felt his insides warm and buzz delightedly.

Dean was put through the emotional ringer today. He was glad Cas was back, the angel that was his everything in all but name. 

Mary could have had this with John, but Dean wasn’t the least bit regretful. A world without Cas wasn’t a world worth living in.

Cas changed his life in every possible way. Dean didn’t learn that until Cas was tossing him and Sam against walls and toppling over restaurant tables. It was a lesson Dean would never forget.

Dean traded John for Cas without so much as a second thought. And his conscience was clean.

Dean fell into Cas’s embrace like a one-dimensional love interest, his boyfriend tugging the bedroom door open amidst the chaos and leading him inside.

Cas lead him into the darkness and to Dean’s bed, finally pulling back from their kisses.

“You should sleep,” Cas rumbled, blue eyes piercing through the black.

“Only if you stay,” Dean said reedily.

Cas acquiesced, taking the left side of the bed, what had become his side. Dean didn’t bother changing out of his clothes, lying beside Cas. 

“Would you like me to heal you?” Cas asked.

“You need to save your grace. I’ll be alright.”

Cas exhaled through his nose, clearly unconvinced. He didn’t make a move, though. “Good night, Dean.”

Dean boldly reached out, wrapping his arms around Cas’s hips. He tugged himself close and shared Cas’s pillow. “Good night, Cas.”

————

Dean walked into the kitchen, seeing Jack sitting at the table in the corner of his eye. He was nursing a rather large cup of tea, taking small sips every few seconds.

‘It tastes good,’ Jack had explained once about his tea fetish. Dean decided to let it go.

“Hi Dad,” Jack said softly.

Dean started brewing coffee, giving Jack a nod. He tried not to think too much about Jack willingly calling him and Cas and Sam his parents.

Sam and Mary arrived as Dean settled across from Jack, midway through his mug of coffee. They went straight towards him and stared him down with arms crossed.

Dean looked at his mother and his younger brother confusedly, Jack matching his expression.

Sam asked, “were you ever going to tell us about you and Cas?”

Dean batted his eyelashes a single time. He examined the two thoughtfully, Jack’s eyes widening comically.

Dean addressed his mother. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

Sam looked as Mary’s face changed to something gaunt and understanding. 

She said, “you deserve to be selfish. I already had my time with John.”

Dean nodded slowly, then addressed his pensive brother and Jack. “Are we good here?”

Sam and Jack wore matching smiles.

“Yeah,” Jack said.

“We’re good here,” Sam agreed.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated!


End file.
